Campaign of the Month:
November 2016

X-Com: Defiance

The gentle lapping of high tide against the boardwalk pylons was almost hypnotizing as Oliver sauntered along the waterfront, Amahle’s hand warm against his.

I couldn’t have planned it better myself. It’s almost perfect.

The couple said nothing as they walked, lost in the peaceful evening as the sun began to set over the water. It was unusually quiet for a Sunday evening on Cape Town’s busy waterfront, but that only added to the young man’s conviction that the stars must be aligned perfectly. Even the restaurant patio above them was more subdued than usual, adding to the illusion that he and Amahle were alone.

As the sun began to touch the surface of the Atlantic far to the west, Oliver stepped slightly ahead of the young woman and turned to face her. Reaching out to gently take her other hand, he returned her contented smile, marvelling at how the orange light of the sunset danced in her hazel-green eyes. Her smile turned to puzzlement as he sank to one knee, still firmly but gently gripping her slim fingers.

“Amah, I know it hasn’t been very long since your world turned upside down, and I know the change has been hard. But none of that has changed the way that I feel about you, and it never will.”

The young woman’s eyes began to tear up, causing the sunset to sparkle even more in their depths. A single drop slid down her cheek to disappear behind the small tusk protruding through her lips. Oliver released her hand as she reached up to wipe at the wetness, dropping into his pocket for the small box hidden there. He ignored the slight commotion on the restaurant patio above them as he brought the velvet container into view, allowing her to pull back her other hand to cup them over her mouth in shocked delight. The clatter of a small round metal object on the boardwalk went unnoticed as he opened the box to show her the simple but beautiful ring.

“Are those discount ears of yours rusted shut again? I said I need an ejection seat for an Ares Venture.”

“How the hell did a dirty orc like you get it’s grubby little hands on a Venture?”

…the large carapaced alien had just gotten a round from an Ares Desert Strike in the head. Roy’s celebration turned to horror as the line of fire opened up between the RPKHMG on the Venture and him. Rounds of machine gun fire hit Roy in the chest. As Roy’s vision dimmed he saw the pilot seat eject upwards straight into the reinforced roof, followed shortly by the sound of ejection seat crashing down next to his barely conscious body. Roy’s vision when all white as the parachute deployed. “You racist bastard gh0st, you just had to wait till the Orc was shot before ejecting the pilot” Roy thought as he passed out…

“It doesn’t matter you damn grease monkey. Can you get me the parts?”

“Yeah, Yeah. It will take a couple weeks to find them, I’ll give you a call when i find it.”

Shortly after the ambush, Andre’s, Grace’s, Roy’s and Alan’s commlinks started ringing.

Low-Jack was calling. Must be about the Venture’s parts.

“You got my ejection seat?” Roy asked as he answered the commlink.

Gunfire could be heard in the background. “Roy, I need help. Someone’s attacking the junkyard.”

“Do you have the parts?”

“Forget the damn seat Roy, someone’s trying to kill your cousin.”

“I’ll never make it there in time. But, I know some people who can. I’ll expect you to find that seat.”

“Shut the HELL UP Teddy! FAACK you go on like a botch!” Liam has never handled come down well and Teddy knows he is in for a pounding if he doesn’t shut it, but being Teddy …

“Ya but A’m just sayin that they need to be taken down and now we can. Especially that PIGFRANCO!!”
“Teddy!”

“What about jewelry stores or banks?” Gavyn muses. “With these flash bangs, we can toss a couple in, grab the goods and be gone before their ears stop ringing. We can make some serious dough quick, upgrade our gear and join a real outfit. Then we can take it to the pig Franco and his 9-ers.”
Mike and Ike nod as Gavyn’s idea takes hold.

“In fact,” Gavyn starts, “ I know just th”

“FAACK!! Look out!!” Screams Liam as a van swerves into their lane cutting them off and forcing them into the guardrail.

“Hang on!” yells Gavin as he slams on the brakes and turns the van.

Everyone is thrown everywhere and the gear goes flying but Gavyn manages to stop the van without crashing. As everyone starts to get themselves together, it all goes south.

Before Bruce can even do more than stand. A burst of gunfire rips through the driver’s side door and Gavyn’s plans are drowned in a sea of blood.

Liam turns to shout something but before he can make a sound, his chest explodes like a dropped melon.

Somehow Teddy has gotten behind the Doc and has a gun pointed at his head and starts yelling,”You MUTHAS! Let us walk or the Doc is gonna get it!”

Teddy is shaking so bad Bruce can’t imagine how the gun hasn’t gone off yet. Mike takes a position on the wall of the van facing the front while Bruce and Ike flank the back door. No one has much of a plan for getting out of the van and, with Liam and Gavyn dead, no one is there to tell them what to do.

Teddy’s eyes bulge and he opens his mouth to yell something as his finger begins to tighten on the trigger but before he can do more than that, Teddy’s head all but explodes and coats the back of the van in blood, bone and brain.

As Bruce is trying to clear his eyes and face, Mike yells out about being hit. Faack this! “We are coming out,”yells Bruce. “Don’t shoot!”

“Hands high and slow, boys. Nice and easy.”

As Ike and Bruce come around the back, Ike about loses his shite and Bruce pales and starts to tremble. Mike just collapses flat – fainted!

“I do believe they recognize you, Andre. How gratifying. No need for tedious threats or thumbscrews. Delightful! We will be back before Tea,” says a puny little shite carrying the biggest goddamn gun Bruce had ever seen. How in the hell can such a puny little faack like him even lift that gun – it’s twice the size of him for cripes sake!

Then the accent registers.

Ike pisses his pants and Bruce starts to hyperventilate. Bruce looks at the Bulldog and sees the drones getting back while the turret swivels and seems to look right at him.

“Now boys,” says Andre affably, “it seems that maybe you have hears of us as my friend suggests. This is good.”

But then his eyes turn flat, his gun rises and any semblance of kindness is replaced by a snarl, “You have 3. Talk. 1 ..”

Ike stands stunned unable to even blink, let alone take. It takes Bruce a time or two to get going but the story comes out. The Yank, the gear, the grab, and the plan. Wait for the commlink to give the destination.

As the story comes out, an Orc takes the Doc and sets puts him in the Bulldog. Andre seems satisfied with the story, which is good there is only one way that this ends if they are not, thinks Bruce.
Before they go, the British BFG guy turns back to them and addresses Burce.

“You know what? I think I like you guys. You did your job, no one got hurt more than they needed to and you showed uncommonly good sense in recognizing you were over matched. Despite the deaths of your erstwhile companions, you seem to be showing considerable fortitude in dealing with the loss, though it may just be shock, and you have cooperated and shown yourselves to be of strong character and flexible morality. We need men like you, so I have a proposition.”

He pulls out a credit stick and after a few seconds of playing with his comlink, tosses it to Bruce.
“Here is 1500 nuyen and an address. Get yourselves cleaned up, get some food and rest and be at that address at 2:30 tomorrow afternoon if you are interested in doing something useful with your lives. Or don’t. Up to you. Just remember, the next time we meet, I will be either standing beside you, or above your corpse. Choose your future wisely. Now go.”

Bruce and Ike grab Mike and begin to haul ass as the van peals away.

“Waa – waa – wat the HELL was that?!” Ike finally gets out. Di- did he just offer us a job!?”

“Ya,” Bruce replies nodding, “I think he just did.”

“Wat are we gonna do? I ain’t crossin them, nu uh. You know who they are? Wat are we gonna do? The 9-ers’ll come for us now. Wat are we gonna do!”

“I gotta think Ike, I gotta think” but in his mind, Bruce is pretty sure there is a way out and he twirls the credstick as they move on.

Things are looking up. The power is back on throughout most of the city, and you graduated top of the class. You’ve even been given a full three days vacation to decide on accepting a deployment to the OSP. In the meantime, you meet up with Laurent to discuss the next part of the mission.

“I am extremely satisfied with your work. In this bag are certified credsticks for the previously agreed upon amount. Now, may I assume your cover identities remain intact? Excellent. This is when the real work begins.”

He pulls a chip out of his pocket and slides it across the table. The data chip contains an intelligence briefing with an Ares watermark that someone tried, and failed, to completely erase. Also attached is an image file with the picture of a female dwarf and the name Dr. Raquel Bliss printed across the bottom.

“You may or may not have heard of an Ares department called the Office of Special Projects. The OSP operates out of Unlimited Technologies and is closely linked with Knight Errant. All of the OSP’s security needs have been filled by Knight Errant graduates. We don’t know what the OSP is up to, but even before Knight Errant took over Capetown policing, OSP has forced Knight Errant to increase recruitment levels above what is manageable for the existing staff and instructors. This is why you didn’t have much trouble getting into the academy. Knight Errant and the Office of Special Projects are desperate for bodies. Whatever is going on is so top secret that not even a whiff of it has leaked through the usual sources. “Your next job is to get into the OSP, however you can manage it, and smuggle out evidence of what Dr. Bliss is developing. Video evidence is acceptable if you can make sure it is time-stamped and tamperproof. Physical evidence is better. A combination of the two would be best. I can direct 60,000 nuyen to your team for it. I understand the Office of Special Projects pays double the usual recruit pay, all of which we fully expect you to keep. Why get paid by only one employer when you can get paid by two? Just don’t forget who you really work for."

“Additionally, you’ll get a 30,000 nuyen bonus if you bring back any project samples intact. The timeline on this is tight. The longer you are away from the academy, the more likely you will not get back in. I need you to decide now if you’re in or out. If you’re out, I’ll need to send in the other team through less than desirable channels.”

You get in the vehicle where an man in Knight Errant armour greets you.

“The name is Vance and I’d say its good to meet you, but that would be a lie. There isn’t anything good about this assignment.”

He motions for you to take seat in the van.

“Here’s hoping you guys at least did something to deserve this bulldrek detail, you know like sleeping with some exec’s hot wife.” Then looking at the Roy, Joe and Gary, “But I’m guessing probably not.”

He starts up the BullDog as you are fully seated.

“They might have told you we are going in to save some citizens, maybe even some children or some such drek, but the real reason is you are an expendable recon team. You are probably the best of the recruits, but even the best of the recruits are more expendable than the rawest Knight Errant in the Ares’ accounting books. Excluding myself apparently.”

He does a waving motion and a file is streamed to your commlinks.

“We aren’t the first team to try and enter the Arcology. A previous team tried. They were wiped out, but what they encountered was enough to send red flags up the command. The video stream had too much interference, for the most part only the audio and a couple video frames were salvageable. See for yourself.”

[Audio Starts Begins]

Ferret: Control, confirm that the barrier at the terminal is down.
Control: It’s down, just as we thought. Condor, could you make out anything as we passed it?
Condor: I recorded the frames in headware. Replaying them now. The barrier at the gate was down, Control, but it’s been changed somehow. It doesn’t match the specs. The composition’s all wrong.
Control: I can’t see anyone in the park, but I hear gunfire.
Eagle: Drones are free. Fire ‘em up when ready, Control.
Control: Activating Fire and Ice. Both seem to have survived their little skip along the tracks just fine. OK, getting visual feeds from both pickups. Personal cams—check, Jaguar’s snake-eyes—check. I’ve got you covered from all angles.
Condor: Copy, Control. All right, ladies, we’ve got the rappelling hooks sunk into the sidewalls. It’s time to get down there and show those Renraku bastards we mean business.
Eagle: Drek!
Condor: What is it, Eagle?
Eagle: Nothing. It’s nothing. Must have cut myself when I sawed my way through the mesh around Control’s drones.
Condor: (To Eagle) Well, come on back. We’re ready to rock and roll. (To Control) OK, Control. I want Fire on the north side of the tracks and Ice on the southern side while we make the drop. Don’t let anything take us out while we’re on the ropes.
Control: Understood, Condor. (To Eagle) I’m getting some odd readings on your biomonitor. You sure you’re OK?
Eagle: I feel fine, Control … just punctured my hand. No big deal.
Condor: OK, this is just like we practiced it in the simulations, ladies. Cassie’s got us right where we wanted to be. Let’s drop in on Little Chiba, shall we?
Control: Getting some magnified images from Fire. Looks like the FunZone has been shut down. The rides are inactive, and I’m not spotting any … wait. Condor, I’ve got three Renraku Samurai on visual … they’re running from something … weapons are drawn.
Hawk: They headed this way, Control?
Control: Not sure. They’re weaving all over the place. Something’s got ’em running scared.
Condor: Let’s get down there and help. Jaguar, take the lead.
Jaguar: I’m down.
Condor: Control, keep Fire panning with mag on, but have Ice cover Jag.
Control: Understood, Condor. Those Renraku boys are out of range now. As far as I can tell, your drop point is deserted.
Eagle: OK, I’m on the ground … don’t feel so good …
Control: Eagle, your body temperature is 100.2 degrees Fahrenheit. Make that 100.4. Heart rate is elevated, but I’d expect that after rappelling down a support pillar.
Condor: I’m with Eagle and Jaguar. Hawk and Ferret are nearly down.
Control: I can see, Condor. Jaguar, have a look at Eagle. I want to see what your thermographic peepers are picking up.
Jaguar: Observing now.
Eagle: Awww, hell … what’s happening to me … what’s happening … .
Control: Deeper bio-scan shows a foreign substance in Eagle’s bloodstream—something got to him. Jag, your thermo is showing elevated temperature.
Ferret: What do you mean “foreign substance?”
Condor: Hawk, Ferret, get over here. Hawk, give me an astral scan here.
Eagle: Oh, frag … !
Hawk: There’s something very unnatural in his aura. It’s not magical, I don’t—
Eagle: AAAAHHHH!
Ferret: Jesus, someone tell me what’s going on here!
Control: Eagle’s monitor just went dead. He’s flatlined!
Ferret: No … oh no … we have to get out of here!
Jaguar: Get a grip, Ferret!
Condor: Look at this … a wound on his palm. An entry wound?
Control: Frag, he thought he’d cut himself. Must have been something else.
Hawk: Something else? Some kind of air-borne viral weapon? What?
Control: Heads up, boys. Fire is tracking multiple targets headed right toward you. They’re on the ground and moving fast.
Condor: Drek! We’ve been made! Control, send Fire ahead to engage the enemy. See if the drone can draw some of them away from us.
Control: Acknowledged, Condor. I’m not sure what’s chasing you out there. They look like … hell, I can’t even begin to describe them … scans show that they’re artificial.
Ferret: This is unbelievable. Where did Renraku get this kind of tech?
Condor: All right. Let’s get set up. Jag, prop Eagle up against the pillar. We’ll use him as a decoy. If he’s still cooking and if those things rely on thermo, they might mistake him for one of the living.
Jaguar: Understood.

[The time stamp skips a couple minutes]

Control: Condor, I’ve spotted two aerial targets in addition to the ground targets! I don’t know why they didn’t show up in the initial sweep! Fire’s drawing them away. That leaves the three ground targets headed right for you. Estimates put them coming around the corner at 11 o’clock, using Jaguar as a point of reference, in 5 seconds.
Condor: (To Control) Have Ice unload a grenade when they come around the bend. (To Jaguar) Hit ’em with the mini-grenades, Jag. Let Control guide you. (To Hawk) Stay alert. Be ready to pick your target.
Ferret: Frag … they’re unbelievable!
Control: Bombs away! Ice nailed one!
Jaguar: Drek! Missed … they’re jumping all over the place!
Hawk: They’re entirely artificial! (To Ferret) Look out, one of them’s got a targeting beam—
Ferret: Gaaah! Oh, man, something’s disrupting my systems … ARRH!
Control: Commlink and feed from Ferret damaged. I’m having trouble picking him up.
Jaguar: Some kind of electrical discharge! Control, Ferret’s been scored!
Control: Fire has destroyed one of its chasers.
Condor: Here they come!
Control: Fire is off-line. I repeat, Fire is off-line. Location of remaining aerial target unknown.
Hawk: Enemy destroyed. I may not be able to stun ’em, but I can sure as hell blow ’em up.
Condor: Somebody get this fragger!
Jaguar: Consider it done.
Control: There is an additional target still at large. Ferret, I’m activating the remote med-doc system.
Ferret: Condor … pfftt … deal … hssssst …
Condor: Something’s got Ferret! What the hell is that?
Hawk: Multiple targets approaching.
Condor: How many?
Hawk: Seven … no … eight.
Condor: From which direction?
Hawk: I hate to say it, but … everywhere.
[Sounds of gunfire, and screaming. Then silence.]

Unidentified Voice: Control … (laughs) … you’re next!
Control: Control to Nest, Control to Nest. The team has been eliminated. Repeat, the team has been—oh frag—Nest, something is ripping into my vehicle.

Well, you’ve got a pocketful of cred and a weekend ahead of you. The weatherman is predicting sunshine. The evening traffic is light and you can enjoy the bustle of the rain-slicked street, reflecting neon signs and streetlights. It is uncanny how cred encourages even the most cynical runner to dust off the rose-coloured glasses.

Then, the lights flicker. Neon signs everywhere flutter for a moment, as if trying to catch a breath. Streetlights dim, gather strength for a few seconds, the dim again. And then, a few at a time, they begin to go out. Traffic lights, billboards, ARO and building lights follow. The street falls in to darkness. A yellow Mitsubishi Runabout enters an intersection and coasts slowly to a stop in the middle of the intersection. Irate drivers scream about grid guide not connecting.
Pale red emergency lights filter out from the windows of nearby buildings. Residents cautiously stick their heads out of their windows to see whether the problem extends beyond their own faulty buildings. Only the dim glow from a few megacorp facilities – Ares, Aztechnology, Shiawase – remain. Curiously, the arcology of Renraku appears greatly dimmed. As you look up you see something rarely seen from the downtown…stars.

You can’t help but suspect that your last job had something to do with this. Hopefully, you can find some way to sell those Shiawase stocks with the power out. Matrix access is completely out.

When you opened your eyes this morning, you could have sworn the sweet sent of credstick stacks and illegal activity was in the air. And what do you know? You were right. Your Uncle the mob boss is on the phone and he’s got some news.

‘Evening Zak, it’s your favorite Uncle. How many mobsters does it take to throw a man down the stairs? None. He fell. Har Har Har.’

You groan internally. You are not sure, but think it is possible that his jokes have gotten even worst since he became an Ork. While his jokes may have gotten worst his power base had definitely expanded.

“Enough jokes, I got some work for you. Some Johnson wants a reliable, talented and discreet team of runners for an infiltration job, but I figured I’d give you the first shot at it anyways! Har har har.”

You make a mental note to find a new uncle who doesn’t think he is a comedian, but you bite your tongue and listen to the rest of the info. “The meet is at 5 p.m. sharp. The place is the Palace of China, downtown Cape Town. You need to ask for Dixie. Guess he’s from southern China. Har har har. Let me know how it goes, okay?”

Breaking the connection with a stifled groan, you do a quick CapeTalk lookup on the Palace of China.

a hip club done in a medieval Chinese theme…popular with the district’s young and wealthy

Great. You love hanging out in trendy themed nightclubs that serve drinks with names like “Sex on the Beach” and are overflowing with mobs of obnoxious, horny young corpers whose shoes cost most that most people’s cars. You can’t say the same for your companions, but who says a bunch of so called ‘alien conspiracy nuts’ can’t rub elbows with the ‘respectable’ set? Time to dress up and go break some laws.

You’ve got to give the Palace of China credit. The exterior of the joint is impressive – a huge round building of red-lacquered wood with a green conical roof and dozens of golden dragons intertwining to form a massive arch above the front door. That arch is widely known to be a fairly sophisticated weapons scanner and chem sniffer.

Zak remembers a couple things his uncle had said about the Palace. The location is considered neutral ground in organized crime circles. There is also a no Troll policy in effect, unless they are accompanied my a member of one of the major crime families. Something about Trolls being too aggressive and hard to put down.

That leaves a couple questions, what to tell Mako about the no Troll policy and how to break it to André that he’ll need to leave his assault rifle at home.

The day’s training starts a little different than usual, instead of the firing range you are inside in a briefing room. Even the sergeant’s bearing seems slightly different, less military and more police detective.

So here’s the score: seven months ago Tyson Ryder, a fifty-five-year-old man, was beaten to death in his room at the Elegance Hotel. I have the autopsy report for you, so I’ll spare you the more grotesque details, but the findings are consistent, at least to me, with a beating. The original Lone Star detective sent officers around to take statements and no one at the hotel claims to have seen or heard anything.

He interviewed the neighbors, although not satisfactorily in my opinion. They’d seen nothing, and didn’t even know the room next door was occupied. He interviewed the hotel staff—seems the only thing out of the ordinary that took place was that the power went out in the victim’s room. It turned out to be a normal occurrence and the staff had the power back on in a few minutes. This one is a real stumper. I imagine you’ll want to review the evidence yourself, so here’s the case file.”

There are two areas of this investigation that are off limits:

Under no circumstance are you to bother the widow with this. She’s been through enough and I’ve already cleared her as a suspect. This includes visiting her home. I’ve even gone so far as to remove their address from the file.

You cannot speak to the original detective, since Lone Star has moved him out of country.

Other than that, investigate as you see fit when not training. Again, find out the who/why/how and get back to me.

“Good, please close the door”, he waits for the door to close, “I have received orders for you to shoot Trainee Alan.”

“Yes sir!”, Grace remains standing at attention.

“Well?”

“Sir, you have informed me that you have received orders. Are you ordering me to proceed with those orders?”

“Yes.”

“Very well sir”, Grace turns her head slightly before looking back, “Permission to speak, sir?”

“Yes, granted.”

“Section 23a of the Knight Errant employee contract states that damaging company property is against the personal conduct policy. Said property is inclusive of all assets not limited to its equipment and employees. Is Trainee Alan, no longer an asset?”

“That is correct.”

“Very well sir. Gel, regular or APDS rounds?”

“Regular rounds.”

“Yes sir! Am I to wait until he hands in his company issued body armor to avoid damaging that company property or should I aim for the head?”

“Aim for the head.”

“Section 5 of the Cape Town Peacekeeping Manual states, that officers are only allowed to use deadly force when their life is in danger.”

“I don’t hear a question, Trainee.”

“Sorry sir, section 44b of the Knight Errant Security Manual states, that employees may use deadly force while on company grounds if under such orders. Are you ordering me to use deadly force?”

“Those are your orders.”

“Very well, last question sir. To confirm that I am following the correct course of action, may I please see the dismissal papers for Trainee Alan.”

The sergeant presses a button on his keyboard and the document appear on the screen behind him replacing the Knight Errant logo.

“Very well sir.”, Grace withdraws her Predator V ejects the gel rounds and inserts the clip of regular rounds from the desk. She then turns and starts towards the door.

“Belay those orders Trainee Hope. You just passed your procedures test. You are dismissed.”

RECRUIT! Just what in the Name of JAY-sus were you doing! I gave you a DEE_rect order to fire on that troll! What in the name of Michael and All the Host WEREYOUTHINKING!!!

Permission to speak, Sargent?

I wasn’t asking for my Health, RECRUIT! ANSWERTHEBLASTEDQUESTION!

Sargent, I have fought men, and elves and trolls and stuff i don’t even have a name for, Sargent and i have fought spirits too and i can say categorically that Spirits are capital T trouble. Although the troll was formitible, we had a troll of our own in there and other assets on the way in. Vanity was good Sargent, but i have fought spirits up close and personal like that one was and i can tell you, she wasn’t enough. So i took it out. I was targeting the troll next, when the call went out that Marcus was down and to take out the killer. Roy was already moving in that direction, so i took the shot there as well. With their main fighters out, and our own assets in play, i moved to contain the incoming threats. I saw reinforcements as a danger and i was in place to shut them down, so i did.

No, that is not what you did recruit, that is not what you did at all. WHATYOUDIDWASVALUEYOURexperienceOVERMINE! and it cost us a team mate and member.

Sargent, I was j -

No recruit, you weren’t. You didn’t and she is dead because of it. We give orders and you follow them because we KNOWMORETHANYOU! ALWAYS. You think you know more? Go tell Vanity how smart you are. Go tell her how you put your priorities over her life.

Sargent, I am -

Did i not just give you an ORDERRECRUIT. Let me be clear. You will go NOW and spent the next 2 hours explaining to Vanity’s corpse why you were so much smarter than me and why you chose to ignore the direction of the officer in command and why you choose to shoot cars rather than protect her life.YOU DO THATNOWRECRUIT!
I expect to see the recorder chip of your explanation on my desk tomorrow morning. DISMISSED